


It will be there tomorrow

by wheniwrite28



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Cockles, Fluff, Heartbreak, M/M, Sad, i am winging this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 19:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10906056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniwrite28/pseuds/wheniwrite28
Summary: Too much distance some times is bad for love.





	It will be there tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I am weirdly angsty now. So is Jensen. So is Misha.

Distance is a bitch. I would have not said this if I didn't know what it did to you. 

Jensen will tell you, it is nothing, or mostly nothing. In hand scheme of things, distance is nothing. Maybe when I am 70 and he is always besides me or most of the time besides me, I will agree.

But right now, as I sit in the green room of Asylum 18, this distance pricks my skin, it hurts me. It is strange to be here, and him not to be. 

He is not supposed to be here. So I sit here alone, scrollling on my phone, tweets, and Instagram and all that nonsense people go through to distract themselves. 

But I am not distracted. I am painfully aware, he is not here. He is not here. I could carve in my skin and it will hurt less. But right now, the thought hurts more.

"I will see you next week" he texts. I sigh. 

....

 

I text him. I can't not do nothing, I have to reach him. When will be ever be on a level playing field. Why one has to love more or less. I wondered if loving two people would make it less difficult to be away, but no, strangely it makes it more.

Here I am, wondering if I could have Been there, but I am here with my other love. My first love. Before he came in my life. 

Yet, he is etched in a place, where no one can reach. May be it is because he is generous or becuase I couldn't ever fathom a person like him existing. I am normal and well, he is him. His own brand of crazy that I adore. 

But right now, all I could is text him. Distance is a bitch and not being able to touch or be near him, a bigger bitch.

"Soon" he texts back.

I look at his contact, Mish, a nickname, his loved ones had for him, which I am lucky to be a part of. I wish we would  
Be 70 soon enough, then we can see the bees together.


End file.
